


love is a loaded weapon

by monkkeyslut



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 20:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkkeyslut/pseuds/monkkeyslut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shikamaru knows this is a bad decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love is a loaded weapon

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Grimmy, because I'm a bad RP partner and often times a bad friend. Also, because I can't write her Dick/Wally without wanting to die.

**love is a loaded weapon**

* * *

 

( **1** )

When they are six, Ino says, “Let’s get married, Shika.”

He sighs and closes his eyes, blocking the sunlight from his eyes with a forearm. “You’re too bossy,” he replies simply, ignoring her when she thumps him in the leg. He thinks she might lie down next to him, that or her thigh is pressed up right against his arm.

They are silent for a very long time and then, “What if nobody else will marry me, Shika?” Her voice is small and so unlike her that Shikamaru opens his eyes and turns to her. A few meters away their parents are talking and Choji is getting sunscreen slathered across his face.

When he looks at Ino her eyebrows are furrowed and she looks upset, like his statement really hurt her. _So troublesome,_ he thinks,pressing his finger against the furrow in her brow to smooth them out. Her eyes snap open and she gives him a _look._

Exhaling loudly, he turns on his back and stares back at the clouds. “Fine, I guess I’ll marry you.”

“Oh. Oh! Yay!” She sits up and leans back down to hug him quickly. Shikamaru pretends that the heat on his cheeks is sunburn.

(He doesn’t remember this until years later, when they’re having sex for the first time, and then he can’t _stop_ remembering it.)

* * *

 

( **2** )

He knows things won’t work out with Temari the last time he sees her. Or, rather, when she spots him at the Flower Shop, arguing with Ino about something childish.

She tells him later that night while they walk around the village, inches away from each other, that it’s hard to compete with something that’s so blatantly obvious. It’s hard to compete with something that looks like it’s been written in the stars.

Shikamaru scoffs, calls her ridiculous, but doesn’t deny any insinuation about he and Ino. He knows his feelings for her; he has for a very long time.

Temari gives him a knowing smile and they part as friends, and that is that.

* * *

 

( **3** )

Choji, Ino can see from the doorway, has his hands over his eyes. “You sick, sick teammates; I feel almost betrayed.”

“Did you want to be invited?” Ino drawls from the bed, looking for something to cover herself with. She frowns when all she can find are Shikamaru’s clothes. “You could have been invited.”

“No,” Shikamaru mutters from beside her, face buried in his pillow, blankets only _just_ covering the curve of his ass. Ino bites her lip and turns away, trying hard not to stare at the long line of his back, the muscles of his shoulders. “Choji, you weren’t invited.”

“I didn’t _want_ to be,” Choji whines from the doorway, hands still covering his face. “Why am I doing this? I’ve seen you naked before Ino.”

“I have no idea,” she mutters, settling for a shirt of Shikamaru’s, similar to his everyday attire. “And Choji, _I_ would have let you join.

The third part of Ino-Shika-Cho’s hands drop from his face, and he begins to make his way into the room, keeping his eyes everywhere but his teammates. She has no idea why he’s taking this so well, and she’s not sure she wants to know. The redhead stops at the end of the bed, sitting on is gingerly. “It smells like… _sex,”_ he whispers, mortified, “in this room. Shikamaru, you’re just as bad as Kiba!”

Groaning, Shikamaru steals the pillow she had slept on, covering his head with it. “You idiots can leave anytime now.”

Grinning, Ino gathers her hair up into a pony tail, stealing one of Shikamaru’s hairbands off his bedside table. “Fine, Choji let’s go for breakfast. Maybe Shika will join us after he gets over his hissy fit.”

“Good _-bye.”_

Choji laughs.

* * *

 

( **4** )

“ _Reeaally?”_ Sakura presses, leaning forward. She can’t shove her face into Ino’s anymore, not with the huge, round belly she’d taken to sporting, but she makes up for it by being increasingly loud and obnoxious, drawing the attention of those around them.

Unimpressed, Ino leans back in the booth, arms crossed over her chest. “Yes. What of it?”

“Nothing.” Sakura shrugs, leaning away from the table. She pulls her drink to her mouth, slurping loudly out of the straw. Beside Ino, Hinata giggles. “It’s just; I thought you always said screwing around with Choji or Shikamaru would be like screwing around with your brothers.”

Looking down her nose at Sakura, Ino huffs, “That was before. And it’s _just_ screwing around. I mean, we’re not _serious.”_

The booth is silent for a few tense moments, and then Hinata shifts, Tenten laughs, and Sakura scoffs. “I’m going to quote you on that one day.”

Tenten takes a bite out of her food, “Yeah, really. Neji and I tried that and now look at me; a mom and _married_ and I’m only twenty-three.” She pauses to chew her food, then says, “Not that I’m unhappy, but the fact remains: friends with benefits doesn’t work.”

Annoyed, Ino slumps in her seat, glaring at her three friends; she shouldn’t have told them this, it wasn’t doing anyone any damn good. “I’m so glad all my judge-y friends are being so helpful.”

“We’re just worried,” Hinata interjects, resting her hand over Ino’s. “We don’t want to see you hurt. We especially don’t want to see your relationship with him strained over something like this. The two of you are close friends, and if this turns out badly, you may never have a connection like that again.” The Hyuuga girl’s eyes are wide and caring, but Ino shrugs away, grimacing.

* * *

 

( **5** )

Shikamaru scowls at himself in the mirror, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, lips foaming with toothpaste. In the shower behind him, Ino hums a mindless tune.

There are bruises on his torso and arms, ones that have turned from a dark purple to a mottled green. He likes that they haven’t faded completely, not since his mission a week ago, and he likes the twinge of pain he still gets when he presses on them.

He doesn’t like the way Ino frowns, lips turning down in a pout every time she sees them. He doesn’t like the kisses she leaves on them, hard enough to tingle. He doesn’t like that she _cares_ because this wasn’t supposed to be about caring, this wasn’t supposed to happen more than once. It’s ruining his plans and it’s becoming far too troublesome.

Spitting into the sink, Shikamaru rinses his mouth out, ignoring Ino’s yelp when the water’s temperature changes.

* * *

 

 ( **6** )

Slipping into the apartment as quietly as he can, Shikamaru lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He hadn’t been sure he could make it home on his own, especially after escorting his three genin back to their houses. They had been beat up pretty badly, but nothing had been broken and the doctors at the hospital had said nothing about internal bleeding.

It had been a rough mission to begin with, and it hadn’t helped that they’d been ambushed on their way back. The rogue ninja were jounin level or higher and he and his team had barely gotten by.

Now, as he inhales the faint smell of take-out and listens to the quiet sounds of his apartment, he allows himself to relax, to allow himself to yawn. Nothing had changed since he’d been gone, and all he wants to do is shower and climb into his bed and sleep for the next five years.

He showers quickly, accidentally using the girly shampoo Ino had left at his house and scowling because it made him smell like vanilla. A part of him regrets allowing her to leave her things at his house, regrets giving her the top drawer of his dresser, but another part, louder than the first, loves it. He likes coming home to little touches of her around his apartment, he likes having a key to her apartment. He likes the idea of coming home every day and having dinner with her, crawling into bed with her. But both trains of thought are too troublesome to worry about, so he locks them away and finished rinsing himself off, eager to get to bed.

When he makes his way into his bedroom, he already knows what he’ll find.

Ino is spread out across the bed, mouth open and drooling unattractively. Her hair is loose and covers both pillows on the bed, and for some reason, the unattractiveness of the whole picture makes his stomach clench and something warm squeeze his heart. _How girly,_ he can hear his friends sneering. _You’re such a pansy, Shika._

Tugging on a pair of briefs, Shikamaru debates how to go about slipping into his own bed. He should have known she would be here when he got back, she’d taken to doing this whenever he went away on missions, hell, she’d begun to sleep over without asking years ago, though they had never engaged in anything other than really awkward cuddling that made the next morning almost unbearable, but it had completely slipped his mind.

He could always wake her, slip into bed and shove her far enough away that he was comfortable. Sure, he would have to deal with the silent treatment for a few minutes, but she would warm right up to him when he moved closer, resting his arm over her waist.

Or he could slip into bed and hope she’d unconsciously move away, taking her snoring and drooling to the other side of the bed.

Running a hand through his hair, Shikamaru sighs, sliding onto the bed and touching her shoulder. “Ino, hey, wake up.”

“Mmpf, go’way,” she mutters, burying her face into his pillow, smearing drool across her eyebrow and making it stick up. He smirked.

“You’re the one taking up all of my bed.”

She blinks awake slowly, eyes heavy, mouth slack. “Shik’maru?”

“Move over.”

“Shika _maru,”_ Ino sighs, gaining control of her motor functions. She rolls away, latching onto his hand and pulling him down beside her. She rolls until his arm is secure behind her back, their faces close but not touching. If he inhales too strongly, he can smell the slight sourness of her breath. “I missed you,” she murmurs, closing the distance and pressing her mouth against his, lips closed.

He returns the kiss instinctually, blinking when she pulls back and presses her face to his neck, wiggling her nose when his damp hair tickles her face. “You smell like me.”

He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t think he _can._ This is…it has gotten way out of hand, dammit. When they had started all of this they had made sure that there would be no strings attached, that it was purely sex, working off stress. This would in no way evolve into romantic feelings, and yet—

She snorts softly against his neck, already fallen back asleep. Shikamaru closes his eyes, but he doesn’t fall asleep for a very long time.

* * *

 

( **7** )

There are three kunai, one on her back, a few inches above her heart. Another is in her thigh, and the last one is pinning her hand to the dirt. Blood fills her mouth and she chokes on it, vision blurring as the nin above her sneers.

Ino thinks about several things in those last few moments.

She thinks about her father, and how sad he will be that his only daughter has died.

She thinks about Sakura, and what kind of effect this will have on her pregnancy.

She thinks about Choji, and hopes that she finds someone who loves him.

She thinks about Asuma-sensei, and wonders if he’ll be waiting for her.

Mostly, she thinks about Shikamaru; his touches, his mouth, his voice.

And then, she doesn’t think about anything at all.

* * *

 

( **8** )

He is by her hospital bed for three days, counting the minutes, the seconds, the hours. She is stable, now. Or at least more stable than she had been days before, and he is so, so thankful for that. He is thankful for Sasuke Uchiha and his ANBU team who had found Ino and her team, dying in the middle of a field.

Her hand twitches every so often, fingers sometimes curling loosely around his, always annoyingly cold, just like her feet. Her eyes move behind her still eyelids, her chest rises and falls, and Shikamaru waits for her to wake up.

He was always very good at waiting.

* * *

 

( **9** )

Ino whispers, “I love you, Shika,” one hand twisted up in his hair, the other tight around his bicep.

He shudders, his rhythm breaking for a second, before continuing on as if he heard nothing.

* * *

 

 ( **10** )

Ino’s throat is thick, her stomach knotted. Inside, she is a mess, but on the outside, she is the picture of wrath, throwing whatever hard object she can find at Shikamaru.

“Too _attached?”_ She sneers, snarling when he catches her in his jutsu, freezing her outstretched hand and the vase in it. She notes disinterestedly that it was a gift from his mother when he moved out, and she is glad he’d stopped her from ruining it. “What did you _think_ would happen?”

She should have listened to her friends, she thinks bitterly. Hinata and Sakura and Tenten were all right when they said she would get too emotionally invested in this—this little charade. Ino should have known it would have blown up in their faces. She’s just glad that neither of their parents had found out, or things would have been much, much worse.

“I thought you would keep a straight head about it,” Shikamaru murmurs, voice calm, face calmer. It infuriates her that he is taking this all in stride, that he doesn’t seem affected by any of this. She knows him inside and out, she knows him better than anyone, but she has no idea what’s going on inside his mind right now.

Ino gives him what she hopes is her best glare. She puts all her anger and pain and hurt into it, “And when did you decide to end it? When you were fucking me against the wall last night?”

A flicker of something crosses his face; annoyance, anger, regret, she’s not sure, and it’s gone seconds later before she has a chance to analyze it further.

She should have seen this coming.

* * *

 

( **11** )

“I knew you’d come to your senses,” Ino says between little gasps, not exactly crying, while he presses his sleeve to his bleeding nose, courtesy of Ino.

She’s pressed against him, twigs in her hair. He is sweaty and dirty, but she doesn’t seem to care as she buries her face against him, tears leaving his neck damp. “Of course,” he murmurs, hands fisting in the back of her shirt, keeping her close. All around them, the training field is a mess of craters from paper bombs.

“I just had to beat some sense into you, was all,” Ino sniffles, pulling away and wiping at her eyes. She looks down her nose at him, just as she has all her life, and then, “Don’t ever break up with me again, okay you little shit?”

Dropping to the ground, Shikamaru lies back, staring at the sky, the stars, the moon, staring at her a bit too, though she doesn’t say anything. “If I’d known it would be this troublesome, I wouldn’t have done it in the first place.”

They don’t talk after that. Ino simply lies down next to him, grabbing the hand resting on his chest and twining her fingers with his.

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Aim It Right (love is a loaded weapon remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4303791) by [theGirlwithtoomanyOTPs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theGirlwithtoomanyOTPs/pseuds/theGirlwithtoomanyOTPs)




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